


Round Peg, Square Hole

by beachkid (binz), binz



Category: Dresden Files - Butcher
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship Fuck, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-25
Updated: 2009-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binz/pseuds/beachkid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/binz/pseuds/binz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all the skull's fault, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Peg, Square Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo 2009, sqaure: pegging/strap-ons. Also light rimming, brief spanking, and mentions of crossdressing.
> 
> Spoilers through to _White Night_

Karrin watched as Harry parked his little toy car in front of her house, not a trace of blue left on it despite Harry's instance on calling the stupid thing the 'Blue Beetle', and the mismatched colours glared particularly brightly in the sleepy gold of the September afternoon. He looked ridiculous getting out of it - he always did, really, a little clown car and eight miles of legs - and the sight became even more ludicrous when Mouse followed him out. The car shifted noticeably with the weight gone, and Karrin wasn't entirely sure how they both managed to fit at all, never mind at the same time.

He looked up, stretching out his back in a long arc, and waved when he saw her at the window. She waved back, letting her amusement show on her face.

Harry was looking ... better. He always looked a little too skinny and a little too sleep-deprived, but the pinched look around his eyes was gone, leaving behind only the hint of bags and a late night. His skin was its normal tone, a little flushed in the cheeks considering he was wearing his usual Spaghetti Western knock-off of a leather duster despite the still-warm fall, and a far cry from the worrying grey it had been when she'd seem him two weeks ago.

He hadn't looked as bad as he had the first time he came back from a Warden training camp, that one in New Mexico almost five years ago now; but he'd looked bad enough, and it made her wonder just what went on out there, and if she really wanted to know.

He knocked a smart, cheeky rhythm on her front door, grinning at her through the window the whole time, and she made him wait, frowning considerately, like she wasn't really sure she wanted to let him in.

"Hey, hey," she said as he pushed forward expectantly when she finally opened the door. "Not you, buddy. I don't need whatever you're selling. I'll just take the pony." Mouse chuffed happily at her, doggy mouth stretched in a wide grin at their joke, and she reached out to scrunch and scruff the flat of his head. Her hand disappeared into his fur.

Only for Mouse would she be willing to do this. Big dogs. God. What was wrong with a little terrier or Shih Tzu or pug or something?

"Hey, lady," Harry said. "You wanna be responsible for the feed and keep of this mammoth? You got it. I'll go get his spare chew toy from the trunk."

"Yeah, yeah," she opened the door wide, smirking. "Get your skinny ass inside, Harry. You owe me some quality time. I got ice cream and _Julie and Julia_ and _Fast and Furious_, and you are responsible for three quarters of the bill for the Chinese food that's coming, because that's at least how much of it you're going to end up eating. And I've still got a box of _Playboys_ and _Penthouses_ you forgot, and a bunch or romance novels my mother left last week that you can take to Bob. Hell if I'm reading them."

"You call him 'Bob', now?" Harry asked, dumping his coat unceremoniously on the chair she kept by the door. He kicked off his shoes and his left big toe peeked out of a hole in his sock. "What happened to 'the skull that talks and is sort of a frat boy about it'?"

"We came to an agreement. I call him Bob, and he doesn't meet my favourite hammer."

"Gotcha," Harry said. "Right. Is this when I point out that I commanded him to speak no untruths to you?"

"No."

"Okay, just making sure."

"Oh for God's sake, Harry. Come in, stay at least eight feet from my TV, and go get the ice cream from the freezer."

   
   


Karrin batted Harry's hands away from the remote, and stopped the first movie as the credits rolled. "I could totally blog about something," she said. "Not that I have any idea what. But I could."

"That movie made me hungry."

"Harry, you ate two boxes of dumplings, and I only got three bites of rice."

"Yeah, but you ate all the Szechuan shrimp."

"Only because it was the only dish _left_."

"Maybe you could blog about your love of shrimp. Take pictures of yourself on your motorcycle in your leather pants and dress uniform top eating shrimp. I bet the Internet would love that."

"You're such a freak. Maybe I should blog about that. How irritating my friends are. And what do you know about the Internet?"

"Hey," he said. "I read. What the fuck is 'Twitter', anyway?"

"Move," she patted her hand against his legs, slung over hers on a couch that was plenty big enough for two people, provided one of those people wasn't a wizard who must have had a growth hormone issue as a child or something. "I'm putting Vin Diesel in."

"Glad to see you have the right idea about that movie."

She shot a glance behind her, making sure he was still on the couch and away from her DVD player, before she swapped the DVDs. The first one had only skipped occasionally, but the audio track had died at irregular intervals; she figured by the time they got half way through this one, it would be useless to try to watch. Good thing she'd already seen it. "It's got Vin Diesel, Jordana Brewster, Michelle Rodriguez, and cars. What other idea is there."

"... You raise a valid point."

He lifted his legs obligingly when she got back to the couch, surprisingly flexible, really, and smiled widely while she glared. This was her couch, after all. Karrin plopped back into her spot, snagged her beer and passed him his, and tangled her legs back with his. She shoved a foot into one of his big hands. "You're gonna take up all the room, Dresden, you're gonna rub."

He laughed, and pulled her sock off.

   
   


"That what you see in Kincaid?" Harry asked while Vin Diesel emoted with his muscles on the screen. She grunted, and twisted the cap off her third beer.

"No, that's what I see in your mom."

   
   


"Honestly, could Paul Walker be trying to get into Vin's pants any harder?" Karrin poked the remains of one of the takeout containers and hummed happily when she found half a spring roll. She handed the box over to Mouse to lick out.

"You never did tell me how you broke your arm, you know."

She paused mid-chew, considered, and then nodded, swallowing. "Anaphylactic shock."

"... What?"

"Macadamia nuts. Place is full of them."

"You're totally not going to tell me, are you?"

"What? I just did."

"Well, I'm not a doctor or anything, Murph, but I'm pretty sure Anaphylactic shock isn't a leading cause of broken bones."

"Didn't say I'd give you the full story, did I?" She debated the fourth beer, then shrugged, and took a drink.

"Gee, Sergeant. That's mighty punctilious of you."

She huffed a laugh, told Dresden to stay away from her word-a-day calendar, and watched Paul Walker fail to be smooth with Jordana Brewster. Jordana would totally top him, anyway.

"You gonna at least give me a hint? Where did it start?"

"I got off my plane and checked into my hotel room."

"Oh come on, Murph."

"You couldn't handle it, Harry."

"Please, I can handle all sorts of things. I am a pro-handler. I am a handling professional. Mister Hell Hound probably couldn't handle half the things I --"

She told him, waited while he stared at her, and added, "And then we showered and went down to the gift shop and I bought him chocolates."

Harry blinked, and she rolled her eyes and drank her beer. Honestly. She'd told him.

   
   


It took another scene before Harry finally spoke, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Chocolates broke your arm?"

"No. One of the chocolates had a macadamia nut in it. It happened to be one I ate. I should have known better."

"You _fuc_\--." He stopped, frowned, and blinked some more.

"Bob said you'd like it."

The movie skipped back a half hour, and Vin Diesel was suddenly speaking in Spanish. Karrin smiled.

   
   


"Look," Harry finally said, "it's not that I disagreed with you, in the elevator. We -- wouldn't work. Not like that."

She raised an eyebrow; she didn't need him to tell her she was right.

"And, I get that. Besides, we'd kill each other before a week was through. And you're way too much one of my best friends to risk something stupid like trying. Stars, I'd need one hell of a better batting average than I've got," he held up a hand before she could speak, "_if_ I was even thinking of trying. Which I'm not. I -- " he scowled, pushed his mouth around, then breathed deep. "I promise."

He'd told her, years ago, about what it meant when a wizard made a promise. She nodded slowly. "Okay. I believe you. Besides, not even you're that stupid, Harry."

"Gosh. Thanks, sweet talker. My girly heart is all aflutter." He rolled his eyes. "But not wanting our relationship to be like _that_, it doesn't mean I can't think you're smoking hot, Murph. For the record. And despite what Thomas might say, I'm not incapable of appreciating smoking hot. You know. If it came up."

"... You want me to fuck you, Harry?" She grinned and his ears turned red and her DVD player died with a whine. The little clock on the front started flashing 12:00.

He sputtered and she waited a moment, calling herself an idiot, weighing the pros and the cons, wondering if she really was willing to risk a friendship on one stupid night and stupid thing and if she could trust herself, could trust Harry, to not act like total tools afterward.

"Take the trash out, put the dishes in the sink, then meet me upstairs," she finally said, and patted his arm. "Take more than half an hour, we call the whole thing off, and you have to shovel my walk ten times this winter. And I pick when."

"Oh Stars, Murph. Don't talk about _snow_. You'll jinx ... autumn." He flapped a hand toward her living room window, like that would help explain.

She swatted his thigh, sharp and efficient, and he swung off, long legs up in the air and landing on her floor with a solid thump. "Bedroom, Harry," she told him, and worked the cricks out of her back. "Thirty minutes."

   
   


Harry was skittery when he came into her room with nine minutes to spare, long legs and nerves making him look like some sort of half-grown moose, and she could see the breath he took to calm himself. In -- hold -- out, and his whole body relaxed. He was well-trained, although his training had always run a little differently than hers.

"How's my time, Sergeant?" He asked, mouth quirked and eyes only a little wild.

"Not bad, wizard," she told him, watching his gaze flick over her robe, a pale turquoise terry cloth that left her dildo pressing out with a distinct, unmistakable bulge. Harry swallowed, and stared at it, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. He gave her a smile, a little bit of the familiar, punky challenge lighting his eyes, and she smirked back.

"See something you like, Harry?"

"Gosh, I don't know, Murph," he said, stepping further into her room and closing the door carefully behind him. "Is that your gun on your crotch, or are you just happy to see me?"

She laughed, and he followed suit with a huff of breathy nerves, and she put her hands on her hips, displaying the tent made by her strap-on, and matched her smile to his. "Why don't you come over here and find out, huh?"

   
   


Karrin undressed him efficiently, batting away his hands when they hovered around hers on his buttons, and pressed her hips against his thigh while he tugged his t-shirt over his head. His jeans came off with a wriggle and a tug -- his hips were so damn skinny and she held them in her hands, fingers curved over the bone, and rubbed their tented groins together. She slid one of her hands under the elastic waist of his boxers, and pulled one of his, the one with the glove, between the overlap of her robe, cupping his palm around her breast.

A tug on his boxers and they slid down, his erection bobbing, red and wet, and her hand slid down to cup his balls, fingers scratching lightly in the dark hair.

"Oh Stars," he said, gasped, and she bit at his chest, nipping at his skin through his patch of chest hair. "Stars," he said again, and she undid the belt of her robe, helping him push it away and off her arms until it puddled around their feet.

He pulled back and stared at her, one hand still curved around a breast, thumb stroking over her hardening nipple, and she tipped her hips toward him, letting him take in the leather of the harness, the D-rings where it crossed over her hips, the smooth silicone length of her cock, a little shorter than his and a little less in width, although it was wider where it went into her where he couldn't see. She jerked her hips forward and back, grunted just enough so he could hear when the harness and dildo rubbed over her clit and the double-end of the dildo shifted inside her, and caught his other hand in hers, guiding it down.

"Go on," she told him. "Touch it."

   
   


Harry folded down onto his knees on his own, stroking over the leather where it crossed low on her hips, around her thighs, and kissed her stomach under her belly button. He slipped his fingers along the underside of the harness, gliding them under the leather and along the silicon where it was held in her cunt. She hummed, pressed down against the touch, and rested one hand against his jaw, brushing his stubble and lips with her thumb.

"Use you mouth," she said, and groaned a little when he ran his tongue up from the base to the tip.

   
   


She fisted his hair when he swallowed her, bobbing up and down with an awkward grace, and he grunted, eyes rolling back, when she tugged.

   
   


She knelt beside him on the bed, rubbed one lightly-lubed hand down the length of her strap-on, and handed him the condom.

He rolled it on with a careful frown, eyebrows lowered and a line appearing between them, and she licked at it, laughing at his start. His forehead smoothed out. "And here I thought I left Mouse downstairs."

She lofted an eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. "All right, I know, I know. Get on the bike, Bitch."

"Good boy," she told him, and mouthed an ear, kissing along the rim, and murmured "and turn over" into it.

"No vibrator?" he asked as he turned, grabbing a pillow and wiggling over top it until it cradled his hips.

"What?" she said, rubbing her hands down the muscles of his back and over his ass and between his thighs, encouraging his legs to part. "You think I'm stupid enough to have something that's run on technology in between my legs with you around? God, Harry. Wouldn't that be a fun one to explain at the ER?"

He snorted, legs spreading easily under her touch. "Point taken."

Harry had the skinniest ass she'd ever seen. It was sort of ridiculous actually; all of him was so long and lean, like he'd been grabbed at both ends and stretched out. He was well-made, though; proportionate, save for the surprise of his cheekbones and his lips, and the size of his hands and feet, only just a shade too large and still promising growth like a year-old puppy.

She straddled the backs of his knees, grabbed an ass cheek in both hands, and leaned down while she pulled them apart. She licked and Harry gasped like she'd never heard him, and she paused a moment, making sure it was okay --

"---Don't. Oh God, do that again," he said, and she laughed, blowing cool air across his skin, and he bit at her mattress with a strangled, half-choked sound.

   
   


"Up," she said, slapping his hip with a crack sharp enough to leave a hand print behind. She rubbed at the red mark while he lifted, movements slow and viscous, and settled on his hands and knees when she moved her hand to the small of his back.

She rubbed lubed fingers over his hole with brisk efficiency, and he pressed back into them with a liquid sort of mumble. "Looks like Bob was right," she told him, and guided the dildo, pressing forward gently, insistently, until the stylized head pushed past the ring of muscle, and she slid slowly in.

He shook like he'd forgotten how to breathe, rough, half-formed sounds escaping in bursts, and caved his stomach low, dropping his middle down and pushing up with his hips.

He humped the bed and she humped his ass, long, sure thrusts and short, fast jabs, left bruises on his hips when she pulled him back, and probably strained her own hamstrings holding herself up and still while she slowed enough to make him swear and curse and beg.

She came in fast, violent bursts, fireworks spilling sparks down her bones, and bit at his shoulders until he groaned and went still, muscles tense and shaking like over-tightened guitar strings, and melted into a pile of loose movement and soft moans while she rode out the aftershocks, fucking him deeper and harder until she came again.

   
   


Harry breathed out with a sleepy groan an hour later, dark eyes blinking in the dim light, and he struggled to push himself up higher on the pillow. He might have been trying to sit up, but Karrin wasn't about to take any bets on that. He wiggled his hips, that fast, fish-like movement drawing a smile to her lips and a little burst of warmth to her belly, and gave up with a small wince.

"Don't get any ideas now, Dresden," she told him, flicking her wrist until her fingers found his shoulder and she scratched gently, half rubbing with her fingertips, half saying hello. "This doesn't change anything, you got it? ... Except that now I know what you look like naked."

"... Got it," He said, and his voice was even more of a mumble than her own, soft and slurred, and her belly gave another happy flare. She could get to like this part of their friendship. "Purely platonic," he assured her. "With hips. And mouths. And stuff like that. I promised, didn't I?"

She grunted, reached up to tug on a sweat-curled lock of his hair, and took her hand back, curling it happily between her breasts. "Make sure you know your measurements," she said through a yawn. "We do this again, you're wearing a skirt and garters."


End file.
